


Where Poets Go To Die

by lonelycrescent



Series: On My Bare Feet [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Break Up, M/M, Mental Health Issues, POV Tsukishima Kei, Pining, Post-Break Up, Regret, Reminiscing, The title is just a literary device, code-switching, no one actually dies, taglish
Language: Filipino
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:20:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28040769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelycrescent/pseuds/lonelycrescent
Summary: Word in this town says that some frustrated writer threw himself into the lake to free himself of his misery. If Tsukishima does the same to his heart, would he feel a little better?(Because not everybody is capable of moving on, and Tsukishima is one of those who aren't.)--Note: Characters frequently code-switch between English and Filipino for the duration of the story.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei
Series: On My Bare Feet [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2039341
Comments: 7
Kudos: 13





	Where Poets Go To Die

**Author's Note:**

> As with the first installment, Narrations are written in English but the characters code-switch between English and Filipino during conversations and thought processes.
> 
> This is the second installment to On My Bare Feet Series. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Tsukishima has never believed in a love that transcends time and space. Much more, miles and miles of it.

After meeting Kuroo though, he was all too-tempted to hope that maybe, out of all the relationships the oceans had pried apart, theirs will be the one of the very few to last. But the raging floods do not choose which houses to destroy. They are not the exception, even if they already fought tooth and nail to keep themselves from drowning.

Or… did they really? Did they really fight hard enough? Or did he just let the harshness of life tear them apart without him even trying to keep them together?

* * *

_“Two years lang yan, Kuroo. Don’t be such a baby. I’ll be back in no time and you won't even feel like I’ve disappeared.”_

He remembers the exact words he told Kuroo as they exchanged their goodbyes in the airport three years ago. _Napaka-ipokrito mo, Kei._ If he had just listened to his instincts before, he would have broken the relationship off before he even left, in order to avoid complications.

But that’s just cowardice on his part. Tsukishima knows the right thing to do was to return _exactly_ on the day he promised he would, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do so. Not when he had dreams to chase. Not when he’s finally leaving the shadows of his brother for once. Not when his mother kept texting him every night, telling him how incredibly _proud_ she is of him for making it this far.

And now, he’s still in this foreign place, already one year overdue. It will only get lonely from now on, Tsukishima realizes, because now there’s no Kuroo to call him or bother him every day.

But at least it’s over. It’s _finally_ over.

Tsukishima doesn’t mope, doesn’t wallow for the days that follow after their parting. Why would he? He’s been ready for this for _weeks_ . He _knew_ letting go it was the better thing to do, because he’s not a selfish asshole. He doesn’t have the heart to keep Kuroo for himself when he couldn’t take care of him anyway.

But he buries himself in work, never letting himself get even a moment of rest to _think things through._ His coworkers worry for the increasing frequency of his overtimes, the darkening bags on his eyes, but his eyes only crinkle as he tells them he’s in the best condition he’s ever been in months.

It isn’t until the following weekend that Tsukishima starts to notice the changes in his routine. It was a Saturday, and he doesn’t have work today. But he sits there in bed thinking that there’s something he should have been doing.

He checks his phone once, twice, just to make sure he isn’t missing out on anything. No scheduled meetings. No pending works. No backlogs. But he keeps his eyes on his phone, checking it every 10 minutes or so. He does this for the next hour until frustration hits him at not being able to remember something he should have. So he gets up and tries to shake it off, and finally starts his day.

When he proceeds to the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee, a sinking feeling hits him as he finally realizes what he’s been doing for the past hour.

He’s been waiting for Kuroo’s call. He’s been waiting for Kuroo’s call and his mind has already forgotten all about it but his body didn’t. It couldn't.

Because they have been calling each other during weekends. For the last three years. Without fail.

No matter what his mental disposition, Tsukishima's hands would would always slide at the screen to answer Kuroo’s call. He doesn’t talk much, and he cuts off the conversation five minutes later, saying he’s busy even when he’s not.

It’s become a routine, and even though he started to hate doing it a few weeks ago, his body still yearns for it because it’s been part of him for so long that he doesn’t know what to do with his weekends anymore without it.

The following weeks are easier as Tsukishima adjusts to his new routine. Weekends are more bearable now. He even decides to Kuroo’s contact name and mute him on all his socials, and all the things that reminds him of him—Kuroo’s hoodies, the stuff toy (a black cat, obviously) Kuroo gifted to him before he left, even the cheesy couple mug that he says he hates but _secretly likes_ —are now kept in a neat box underneath his bed. He doesn’t have the heart to throw them out, not yet. But someday, he thinks, someday, he will.

Despite all his efforts to forget him though, there’s still one thing that Tsukishima couldn't bring himself to stop doing.

Whenever he misses Kuroo, misses home, he would drop everything, _everything,_ and head out to a small lake located just a few minutes from his apartment. The lake here is boring and dead and so unlike the ones found at home, but it is enough. It is more than enough to remind Tsukishima of the home he used to have, the home he’s supposed to come back to, the home he’s abandoned.

_Kuroo._

Because Kuroo used to take them on those stupid cheesy picnic dates beside any clean body of water they could find. He would wake him up before the sun would even rise and take him out on a drive without telling him where to go— _Ay basta, makikita mo nalang!_ he would say—and, and even though his eyes are still puffy from being woken abruptly and his face swollen from staying up late, he would always, _always_ say yes to Kuroo’s morning surprises, just because it’s _their_ thing.

Up until today, Tsukishima has managed to stop himself from going into that goddamned lake, afraid that it might cause unwanted memories to resurface. But he just couldn't help it. Maybe it’s the stress of his work, or maybe it’s the chill of September that suddenly makes everything feel so depressing, he doesn't know. All he knows is that he wants to come back to something familiar, something that can ground him back to the earth.

His vision slightly blurs as he drives his way towards the vicinity, but surprisingly, he doesn’t cry when he arrives at the lake, doesn’t feel anything when he sits atop the cold, wooden dock beneath his body.

Tsukishima takes a deep breath. Just as he predicted, going to this place opens wounds that are just beginning to close. But Tsukishima lets himself have this today. Today, he mourns for a failed past and a future that will never come into fruition.

Things hadn’t been easy, but it wasn’t as if he didn't expect any of this to happen at all. No. _He already knew this was going to happen._ He was _ready_ for it. He hasn’t been fighting for their relationship in _months,_ being so burned out, so _tired of everything,_ juggling his responsibilities towards people _and_ himself all at once.

A good son. A good employee. A good lover.

It’s just so unfortunate that in his breaking Kuroo was the first to be let go.

_It has been a long, exhausting day, and Tsukishima wants nothing but to retreat under the covers and sink, sink, sink, when he hears the distinct ring tone that signifies Kuroo’s call. He hasn’t been answering Kuroo for weeks, and it’s not that he didn’t want to; it’s just that he’s too tired to even hold up a conversation and will his heart to open to anyone. Kuroo used to be an exception to this, but these days it’s been hard to make him one._

Something is wrong with me.

_Despite his mind screaming at him to ignore the call and just wallow in his own self-pity, he answers Kuroo’s call this time, because he had a feeling this call is going to be different._

_And he was right, because Kuroo didn’t waste time and proceeded to tell him he wants to be let go._

_Tsukishima knows he isn’t in the right headspace to fight. And he wishes Kuroo could have called another day, when he’ll have more energy to converse with him. Maybe tell him the reason for his avoidance. Tell him that it isn’t his fault._

_But Kuroo’s calling today, and he can’t do anything about it, so he says half-assed words that would probably only piss his lover off._

_"Kuroo… I— ‘Di ko alam kung pano tayo nagkaganito."_

_They don’t. And Tsukishima’s heart hurts because despite being in the verge of anger, Kuroo remains gentle with their parting. "Di ko rin alam.Wala naman siguro satin ang may sala. Kaya itatanong kita for the last time: gusto mo pa bang subukan? For real, this time? With effort."_

_"..."_

_“If you say yes, then I won’t let go. But you have to fight with me this time. ‘Di ko kaya ‘to mag-isa."_

_Tsukishima wants to say yes. He wants to tell Kuroo he will fight, that he just needed a few days to gather himself, to reset. But he has been trying to reset for months and nothing’s working. Nothing’s working and Kuroo’s giving him an ultimatum and the clock is ticking fast and he’s_ losing him, _he’s_ losing _him and he doesn’t want to but he has to be a good son first, so before he knows it, before he could even_ think, _he feels his mouth say things he only half-means—_

_"You know I can't promise you that, Kuroo. I’m just so busy—"_

_"Then let me go."_

_—And regrets it._

_Tsukishima loses his words, and Kuroo begs for one last time._

_"Just please. Let me go kung hindi mo kaya. Okay lang sakin. Go on with your life there, Tsukki. Di ako galit sayo kasi hindi mo kasalanan; ako yung mahina. But if you don’t let me move on from you, I will be.”_

_Kuroo says those words with such finality that all the fight leaves Tsukishima’s body._

_What was once a peaceful tread in a quiet lake has now become a fight for life in the stormy seas. And Kuroo is struggling to keep himself afloat. Alone._

_Kuroo is drowning, Tsukishima realizes, and if he doesn’t let him go, he’s going to sink to the bottom of the water and Tsukishima will be forced to return—if he returns—to a lifeless body, pale skin and chapped lips and cold, shivering hands that would refuse to hold his own despite all the warmth it’s offering._

_He refuses to let that happen. So he removes the stones that are weighing Kuroo down, pulls him to the shore, and lets him walk away. He can only do nothing but apologize for being the causation to this finality. “...I'm— sorry. Sorry talaga. Sorry."_

_"Sorry din. Ingat ka dyan, Kei_."

_The line dies. The storm is over. And the stones that used to weigh Kuroo down are now Tsukishima’s to carry._

Word in this town says that some writer killed himself in this lake out of frustration, drowning his mind in liquor before drowning his body in the water. Tsukishima is no poet, but he is sure that if the pain he’s carrying were real stones and not figurative burdens, the dock would surely break from their weight and in no time, he would be accompanying the skeletons of the writer that went before him.

He doesn’t realize he has been lying on the wooden platform for more than an hour when a kind lady shouts at him from afar.

He hears her thick accent through his earmuffs. “Son, are you okay?”

“Yes, I am. Thank you for asking.”

“Well, you better get out of there. That wood is already fragile and old, you know.”

Tsukishima only nods in silent agreement, and the lady goes her way. He turns away from the lake and attempts to leave his heart to die there, intent on never returning to it again.

But not before he picks up an almost-wilted flower, holds it in between his fingers, and protects it until it can be kept safe and sound in between the pages of his books at home.

((Later in the day, he buys a parchment paper and a flower press and tells himself that it’s _just_ an old habit that refuses to die.))

A whole month passes, and Tsukishima drowns in his work every day and convinces himself that their parting is but a mere result of what he already knows was bound to happen. A culmination, a finality. _It can’t be helped,_ he convinces himself every day, _every day_ he chants it like a mantra until the words become a morning routine and lose their meaning. He misses him every day, _but it can’t be helped._

_Sure. Keep telling yourself that._

It wasn’t until Kuroo’s birthday that Tsukishima was sucked into a spiral of non-functionality again. He misses him. He misses hazel eyes and flirty smirks and weekly visits to Kuroo’s apartment, waking him up in the morning with fresh coffee on the table, and him dragging Tsukishima back into the covers just to tell him to _sleep in more_ , _Tsukki._

Now he’s just a crying heap in his lonely apartment, having carried this burden alone for months, his tears long overdue and finally free-flowing.

His mind goes back to a time when he used to want to offer Kuroo the world and more, and wonders why things aren’t the same as they were before back then.

_Tsukishima feels Kuroo’s steady breathing against his naked chest, a sign that he’s starting to fall back into sleep. He’s already wide awake and more than ready to go about with his day—he has a lot of studying to do after all—but if Kuroo wants to sleep in more with him, then he’ll willingly indulge him._

_He will always be willing to indulge Kuroo's requests, especially because he does it so sparingly. Even if he asked every day, though, he’d still willingly give Kuroo whatever he wants, as long as he’s capable of doing so._

_Just because he loves him, he will give him anything._

_He pushes the sheets up to the level of Kuroo’s neck to protect his back from the cold, and he kisses the top of his head._

_“_ Sweet dreams, love,” _he whispers, before letting sleep take him away as well._

Since when did that change? When did he go from wanting to give Kuroo the whole world to being a literal selfish asshole?

 _“It can’t be helped”_ does not work anymore, Tsukishima thinks as his tears continue to stain his bed sheets, _because it really could’ve been helped._ He knew from the start that the floods would give them no mercy. He should have fought harder and they would’ve been able to withstand it. He shouldn’t have let Kuroo fight for them alone.

Back then, it didn’t make sense to him that Kuroo’s being so _needy,_ wanting to talk every night when they’ve got a lot of things to do. They were _grown-ups,_ he thought, and there was simply _no time_ for college-level romances because they’ve already been thrusted into the real world, with jobs to do and bills to pay. But after their parting he realized that Kuroo didn’t become needy, Tsukishima just became distant and cold. Because of what, he didn’t care to know now.

All he knows is that he’s sorry. And it’s been months but he still loves him and he wants to do nothing else but to come back to his arms and build them a boat that can sail through a thousand storms, protect him from the cold and never let him drown again.

But he couldn’t do that now. Because he just _knows_ Kuroo’s finally moved on from whatever they had, and he’s probably thrown those stupid pressed flowers that he’s made for him way back when they were still more than okay.

(On the other side of the world, a glowing Kuroo smiles as he sees the first of many flowers bloom beneath his bare feet.)

Tsukishima regains his senses a while later, but he doesn’t have the strength to take a bath or eat or clean his messy home.

It mildly surprises him though, that despite not having the energy to do anything else, he still has the strength to put on a change of clothes and go to the local flowers shop, intent on doing only one thing.

Upon entering the store, he sees the familiar red head of the shop owner. A face he’s known for months.

The man greets him, happy to be able to get a customer in the middle of winter. “Mr. Tsukishima! My favorite customer. What would you like to get today?”

“Good day, Sir,” Tsukishima politely greets, “Actually, I’m not so sure. I think I’ve already bought all kinds of flowers in your store this past month...”

The redhead just laughs at this, and gestures to Tsukishima to follow him into the back of the boutique. “Oh, but certainly you haven’t seen these yet because they just arrived! Come take a look.”

On a little vase, a group of baby blue and purple flowers barely as large as his fingernails sit, their gentle beauty calming in contrast to the storm inside Tsukishima’s heart.

“They look nice. What are they called?”

“Forget-me-nots. Do you like them?”

“…I’ll get them.”

Heavy floods leave in its wake broken homes and cities, but it always, always comes to an end. Tsukishima wonders if the storms will ever subside in the wake of his and Kuroo’s broken relationship, or will he forever be stuck trying to keep himself afloat while dealing with the aftermath of a destruction that he let happen without putting up a fight.

But it is nature’s nature to give infinite chances to rebuild what has been broken. And in the same way Tsukishima’s not an exception to experiencing the rage of the floods, he is also no exception to this.

He receives his first chance barely a month after Kuroo’s birthday, brought by the gods in the form of an email from his supervisor.

_Mr. Tsukishima,_ it read.

_We have been very pleased with your performance for the past two years and would like to offer you a proposition._

_As you know, we have a sister company back in your home. But it’s still small and growing, and someone from the parent company needs to be there to help manage it. We needed someone who knows the company well enough to be sent as a liaison, and because of your background of having been from there, the company deems you the person most fit for the job._

_Should you be interested in this offer, please report to my office at 8am tomorrow so we could discuss it further._

Tsukishima doesn’t give it a second thought. He already knows what to do.

* * *

Three black suitcases sit on the side of the road. A smaller bag rests on a broad shoulder.

A single silver key turns to lock a wooden door, and long fingers turn the knob to make sure it’s well locked.

Headphones blast music against slender ears. A beanie embraces a pale blond head. Three layers of clothing keep a shivering body from freezing.

Several pressed flowers occupy the compartments of the bag, and a passport sits in between the pressed sheets.

Tsukishima Kei is finally going home. And he intends to stay and never leave again.

**Author's Note:**

> We saw Kuroo cherish the memories, but I needed Tsukishima to wallow in his pain because I wanted to show that even the people who break hearts get theirs broken in the process as well.
> 
> Also. Tsukki "leaves" his heart but picks up a wilting flower on the side of the lake. Yes, it has implications. Yes, it means exactly what you’re thinking ;)
> 
> The resolution for both our main characters will unfold in the final part of this installment. Thank you so much for reading!!
> 
> Let's talk on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/koushikage_)!


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